


In the Cypress Commons

by Alliance (Xazz)



Series: Cypress Hall [58]
Category: Flight Rising
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 10:37:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 8,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19375000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xazz/pseuds/Alliance
Summary: Vignettes from Cypress Hall





	1. Spayar

Being in the greenhouses was one of Spayar’s favorite places to be. Around all the new seedlings and fresh growth and the plants that hadn’t quite been as healthy as they would have liked and needed extra attention. Spayar was with one such plant. An aether cherry bush. Most cherry types grew in trees but not aether cherries, rather they grew in wall, almost conical shaped bushes that could be as tall as an Imperial’s shoulder. This one hadn’t been happy for a while and had been transplanted to the greenhouses for some more intensive care.

This aether cherry bush was still fairly small, smaller even than Spayar’s dragonoid form. He was sitting with it next to him on the workbench while he looked read a text from a book Tassa had… borrowed (read stolen) from the family library when she’d left the Belspring to find Spayar. It was a big book full of much of the knowledge of the druids of the Belspring so you didn’t have to keep quite so much in your own head. He was looking for something for aether plants. He figured if they were from the Plateau branch of the enclave they’d have more information on them than other druidic sects. He was very disappointed in the actual results.

He ran his finger down a page of index, scanning for useful information on wind grown plants. There was notes on how to get rid of bothersome air plant weeds and how to help with pollen allergies made worse by strong winds but nothing about aether plants.

“How hard can it be?” he asked himself and gave the cherry bush a shrewd look. Aether cherries didn’t grow well in gardens either which didn’t help the situation. “You just want to feel better, don’t you little plant?” he asked and waved his fingers, collecting magic into his palm.

He started at the leaves, drawing lines of druidic magic along their veins hoping to stimulate the dark leaves to grow. When they didn’t he tried the bark but that just made it worse with the bark drying and starting to curl away from the stem. He pulled his hand away with an annoyed frown.

Finally get just went to the root of the problem, literally. He dug his hand into the soft dirt of the plant’s pot and started rummaging around. Curious he found something in the roots. The roots had grown around the object and he didn’t really want to rip it out. He used a bit of magic to coax the roots to relax from around the object so he could pull it out without much trouble other than covering his arms with dirt. He’d had much worse on him and just used his wings to help dust his arms off as he looked at the object.

“And what are you?” he said looking at the strange, spherical, box. It glowed faintly in his hand and had no hinge or means to open it. He put it down on his work desk and tried his magic on the bush again. He smiled when the plant responded well to it. Well, whatever it was was making the plant sick. He’d put it away where it couldn’t hurt any more of his plants.


	2. Tassa

The sun was just starting to go down. The sky was stained orange and pink, the whispy clouds like long pulled pieces of purple wool across the apex of the sky. Tassa leaned against the fence of the herdbeast pasture. She couldn’t see the other side but she knew Spayar and Reza has spent a long time making sure the fence went all the way around and Aarrow checked it regularly to see if it needed repairing.

Speaking of her little assistant he came running up to the fence, his tongue lolling as he nearly collided with the fence. He yipped a little and sat back heavily on his haunches. “I couldn’t find the last ones, Tassa,” he very nearly chittered. His head fins shifted a bit with nerves of not doing something properly.

She smiled kindly at him. “It’s your first time doing the nightly round up, Aarrow.” She gave his boney Mirror headplate a reassuring pat. He smiled at her. “But I did tell you you don’t need to go running all around to bring the herd in for the night.”

“But I herd them like that usually,” Aarrow said.

“Yes but you don’t have to. Want to see how  _I_  do it?”

“Yeah!” he jumped to his feet, leaning down on his front legs, his long whip of a tail thrashing happily.

Tassa climbed onto the top of the fence and sat on the top cross beam like she’d done it a thousand times. She had. She used to do this back home too, before she’d joined the Hall, before she’d left the only home she’d known to search for one she wasn’t even sure was there. It had a greater effect in the echoing landscape of the Plateau but she was a Wind dragon, she could make it work.

She cleared her throat before letting out a short, belting, note that range across the Tangle. She followed it up with a series of near lyrical Sihngari words for beckoning, calling, and longing. Aarrow’s eyes widened as he listened, his fins tilting to help him catch the sound as it rattled against his fins down into his bones. She made the same call a few more times, her sharp voice rising and falling in the dead air and they started to hear the jingle of the last herdbeasts Aarrow hadn’t been able to find.

The herdbeasts ambled up to her and Tassa slid off the top of the fence to pet the first one that came within reach. She called out a few more times while they waited for the others to come out of the small wood and tall grasses of their pasture until she had the remaining four surrounding her.

“See, Aarrow, you just need to run after them. Just call, and they’ll come,” she said with a smile at the stupefied mirror staring at her like she’d just done a trick.

“That was amazing!” he cried.

She giggled. “Yes yes. Now help me get them into the barn for the night,” she grinned widely at him and grabbed one of the herdbeast by the horns to guide them towards the barn. Even from here she could see the already barned herdbeasts looking out of their pens towards where she’d been calling to them.


	3. Vondugard

It wasn’t often Von got mail. He didn’t like getting mail. It was never a good sign. It meant his family was reaching out to him. He hated that. He frowned at the letter Dodge had brought earlier, closed and sealed by his family’s royal seal. He regretted his last message he’d sent his mother now, saying he couldn’t possibly leave at the moment because his daughter needed him. It had been a stupid thing to say.

He sighed and ignored it, putting it away on his desk in the room he shared with Spayar. She shouldn’t be on his mind. He was busy here and Tyger did need him. She would always need him, even when she was finally grown and claimed she didn’t. He put the letter out of his mind.

When the second one arrived he couldn’t ignore it. Ignoring the first one was one thing. Ignoring the second was asking for trouble. He sat on the bed and opened the new one with a clean move of his sharp fingernail, his wings tense and poised. He read the orderly, typewriter, text frowning all the while.

“Mother,” he sighed deeply. He jerked up when the door opened. “Spayar-

“What are you still doing in here? It’s well past breakfast. You missed it,” Spayar said, a frown across his face.

“It’s nothing,” Von assured and put the letter out of sight.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Von got up and went over to him. He hated making Spayar worry. He put his hands on his shoulders. “It’s nothing,” he said nicely, doing his best to smile.

“If it was something you’d tell me, wouldn’t you?” Spayar asked, resisting his charm but just barely.

“I would,” Von lied.

Spayar grimaced a little. “You know you can tell anything.”

“I know,” he kissed Spayar on the cheek. “It isn’t anything important.”

“Alright… come have breakfast before we put it away.”

Von felt like his smile was fake but he did it to make Spayar feel at ease, “Alright. I am rather hungry.” He reached down and threaded his fingers through Spayar’s and followed him out of the bedroom. His mother could wait.


	4. Gemini

It smelled sweet and minty in the cottage when Gemini came home. He hung up his quiver and finally unstrung his bow, putting it by the door. He always waited until he got home to unstring his bow. He never knew what he’d find on the way home. Even flying wasn’t always safe. But that didn’t matter now because he was home! He hung up his hat and yanked off his smelly breastplate and that went on a rack just outside the door on the side of the house.

He closed the door quietly behind him and crept over to Aya’s workroom. As expected he found her bent over a book, checking to make sure she was making a potion right. She didn’t notice him coming up behind her until he wrapped his arms around her. She gave a wordless coatl shriek and snapped her wings against his head. He just laughed.

“Gem!” she cried once she realized it was him. He just hummed and held her. “Don’t scare me like that,” she scolded him.

“But it’s a bit of harmless fun,” he said, nuzzling her.

She sighed. “It could have dropped something into the cauldron.”

“I know. Sorry. I won’t do it when you’re over your cauldron,” he said sincerely. “Are you almost done? I’m hungry.”

“You know how to fend for yourself,” she said with a roll of her eyes.

“Yes… but when you do it it makes me happy,” he curled his wings around them both a bit, the rosette patterns glowing from the light shining through the thin membrane.

“Let me finish,” she said, reaching back and cupping his cheek in one hand.

“Okayyy. What are you making?”

She huffed, “Another cleaning potion for that disgusting armor of yours. Speaking of! You stink!” he just giggled. “Go wash and I’ll make you something and not before.”

“You drive a hard bargain. Only because I love you,” he kissed her cheek.

She blushed and gently pushed him away. He allowed himself to go but even as he walked off Aya’s wings reached out to him slightly and her tail unwound from his own. He hadn’t noticed when she had done it in the first place but he liked knowing she did it. When he left her workshop he yanked off his shirt and went to draw up a bath.


	5. Aya

Aya hated sleeping on damp sheets. But she lived in a swamp. It was humid and it wasn’t uncommon to sweat at all times. It was preferable to panting to keep your body cool like she did before she took on the dragonoid shape.

But tonight she hadn’t sweated through her sheets because it was hot out. The reason for it tonight was laying next to her. Gemini was already passed out, sleeping on his stomach. The moonlight from the window glittered off the sweat that had collected along the muscular cleft of his back where his wings were draped.

She leaned over and brushed her feathered wings against his warm skin. His back twitched and he grumbled but didn’t wake. She leaned down and pressed her face into his hair. He smelled of musk and the outside forest. He grumbled again as she nosed against his hair, nibbling here and there at his ear or jaw. With a deep sigh he woke up, his rich green eyes bright in the darkness. “Aya?” he asked sleepily, his mouth loose and sloppy. “‘Ired,” he grumbled.

“I can see that,” she teased him, running her fingers through his hair. With a groan he rolled onto his side.

“No sleep?” he asked her, eyes closed but awake.

“I am not tired,” she cooed, scratching him under the chin.

“Hmmm, I haven’t done a good job then,” he said, enjoying the scritches, his lips curled into a soft smile.

“No, you did. That would be the problem.” That made him laugh and wake up a bit more. “You did such a good job I want you to keep doing it, for I am not tired yet.”

Gemini opened his eyes into slivers of green emeralds, looking at her in the darkness of the moonlight. “I’m too worn out for that,” he grumbled even as he pushed himself up to his hands and knees, his wings falling limp to the side.

“C’mon now,” she complained.

“I didn’t say I wasn’t gonna,” he huffed. To her surprise he grabbed her and pulled her towards him, under him. “Just a lil different is all,” his dark lips pulled away from his teeth in a nice smile.

“Oh?” she asked, not quite sure what he was going to do. She was hardly ever sure what he was doing to do and he liked surprising her.

“Yeah, so let’s not hear more complaining, my love,” he kissed her on the mouth.

She gasped and hummed loudly in delight when he stopped kissing her and put his head down between her thighs instead.


	6. Kanna

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DO NOT READ IF YOU DO NOT LIKE/HAVE A PHOBIA OF SPIDERS

She liked the distant quiet of the bamboo strand. A spider as big as her hand crawled slowly up the side of her head to dangle on her horns. This was the one place that she could work in relative quiet, where most other dragons or otherwise would reel back from her friends. They were such nice things really. You just had to be gentle with them. They didn’t want to hurt you, not really.

Kanna slowly spun the crank on her silk spinner. One of her even larger spiders, Na’seir, a mother to thousands, was patiently spooling silk out onto the dowel for her. As she did Kanna would lightly dust the sticky web with a special powder. It would cling to the spider silk in a way where it kept all of its tensile strength but would lose its stickiness.

“You’re doing great,” Kanna said kindly and reached her hand up to take the spider off her head. It was trying to weave a web in the space between her horns. That wouldn’t do. “Do you want to go next, Gada?” she asked the spider as it crawled around her fingers and down to her wrist.

Na’seir stopped her spinning, chittering at her. “Alright,” Kanna said. She could understand the spiders. Not as words but they had their own language anyway. She patted Na’seir on the thorax and let her along. Na’seir skittered away back up the bamboo stalks to her massive web that hung suspended and glittering in the light. “You next, Gada,” she put the spider down where Na’seir had been on the pillow. Na’seir was bigger than Gada but Gada would produce just as much silk.

She hummed to herself as she got out another dowel and put it into the thread spinner. She gently pet Gada on her lovely thorax, coaxing out the spider silk into her delicate fingers and she stuck it to the dowel. Then, slowly, she began to turn the crank to start the process anew. As she did another one of her friends came over to see what was going on, chittering with interest. “You next, don’t worry, everyone will get a turn,” she assured the newcomer and pet their head, behind their eight, curious, black eyes.


	7. Vex

The clattering of the loom was comforting. You didn’t have to talk to the loom. The loom talked for you. Vex’s shuttle flew between the warp and weft and with each clack of the wooden peddles the pattern started to appear. She was doing a simple one this time. Six colors only, all wool, in the design she’d had in a dream. She had the sketch next to her and had been working all morning on it. Now she could actually get to making and it was like seeing one of her hatchlings being born-

Her hands stilled at the thought. She looked over to the side where Chase was quietly working with his clay, his brow furrowed as he threw a pot with a magnificent neck. She bit her lip watching him.

“Doing okay, Vexy?” he called, not looking at her but startling her all the same.

“Y-yes,” she stuttered.

His wheel kept spinning but he looked up now and looked over at her. “Sure?” he had a little clay in his beard. “You stopped working.” She cocked her head at him slightly and extracted herself from her loom. His foot slowed its pumping of the wheel’s pedal. “Vex?” he asked.

She went over to him and leaned down. “You got dirty,” she nearly whispered and wiped the clay off his beard.

“A—ah, thank you,” he said. “But I’m still dirty,” he raised his hands to show her his clay covered hands.

“That’s fine,” she said, smoothing her fingers across his cheeks.

“You okay?” he asked nervously.

“You’re cute,” and even saying that made a high blush color her dark cheeks. Chase beamed at her, his entire face lighting up.

He leaned over and pressed a kiss against her mouth. Chase always had dry, slightly cracked, lips and his mustache tickled her skin. It never failed to make her smile a little when she kissed him back. “You’re pretty cute yourself,” he said. Vex blushed deeper and turned away. He chuckled as she retreated back to her loom, hiding behind her great green curls. She heard him start to spin again. Once her heart had settled down a bit she could focus on the pattern and picked up where she’d left off.


	8. Layali

A little cough worked itself out of her mouth as Layali landed on the lawn outside of the Manor. She knew it was hot in the Hall but she felt a chill and curled her leathery wings around herself. No one could know she was out here. It would be bad. Not for anyone but herself really. She didn’t feel like getting a talking to again by her mother.

A long necked dragonoid was sitting on a stool by the front door, rocked back on two legs in the early morning. Her wild curls a cloud around her head like a halo. She looked down at Layali with cool yellow eyes. “Hello,” Layali said in a soft voice.

Innya looked her up and down. “Who’re you? What do you want?”

“I’m… Layali. I need to see the Master.”

“What for?”

“I need his help.”

Innya sucked her teeth, put the stool down on all fours and stepped off. “Come inside,” was all she said. Layali followed her inside and into a study with a plush chair at a desk, the walls lined with bookshelves stuffed with books. “Wait here,” and she closed the door on Layali by herself. She felt another chill and held her arms, rubbing them. As she waited she looked around. Maybe something here could help her? If anyone would know it would be the Master. He was the smartest thing in all the Hall, even more than her mother who was ancient. The Master was a greater repository of various knowledge.

The door opened again and she turned. The Master was in a morning robe and a pair of shorts and not much else like he’d just rolled out of bed. Despite that his hair was still manicured and his beard brushed. “Hello there,” he said like he hadn’t just been sleeping.

“Master,” she said, still holding herself against the chill she felt.

“Innya said Layali was here. Which should be impossible since Layali is the progenitor. So who are you?” he asked patiently.

She blinked at him, his cunning yellow eyes bright with interest. “I  _am_  the progenitor, Layali,” she said seriously.

He looked her up and down, “You’re a girl.”

“I don’t age like other dragons. I am not a child,” she said.

“Very well. What can I do for you?” he moved deeper into his study and leaned against the desk. She could tell he didn’t believe her. That she was the progenitor.

“Do you know the names of the Gods?” she asked him.

“You woke me up for that-?

“Their  _true_  names,” she interrupted. That piqued his interest. “I need to know their true names.”

“Why?”

“Then the Windsinger will help me,” her voice cracked as she spoke. She hadn’t dreamed of the Windsinger in a long time but she could still remember the last one. The promise of her cure if she found the names of the Gods. Their true names.

The Master tilted his head at her. “You’re not going to tell more, are you?”

“I don’t know more,” she coughed again.

“Hmmm. The names of the Gods. That’s an interesting idea.” He wandered around his study. “I will have to do some research.”

“I can come back,” she said and coughed again, harder this time. When she pulled her hand away from her mouth there was some blood in it. “But I can’t stay now.”

“What is the Windsinger going to help you with?” he was too curious.

“I’m very sick,” she whispered. He said if I found the names of the Gods he would tell me how to cure myself.”

The Master frowned. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ll look. It will take some time. Shall I send someone to the Tree when I have something?”

“Please. Come at night, do not have them announce themselves. I will know.”

“Why not?” he asked as another round of coughing hit her again.

“I’m not supposed to be here,” she said once she was done and showed the Master the blood in her hand. “I need to go. Send someone when you find something.”

He saw her out. “Innya,” he said to the guard at the door. She hummed in response, “See young Layali back to the edge of the Eye and then return,” he said.

“Sure thing,” Innya said boredly slid off her stool and flew after Layali as she stumbled her way into the air.


	9. Chapter 9

 

He woke because he could hear her sniffling. Rahab woke with a shake of his frills and crawled up onto Layali’s bed. Lianna was out to get some sunshine and get some wing under her wings. Layali had made her go. He knew his sister hated being coddled all the time and wanted everyone around her to not worry so much about her. She wanted them to be free and to live. Not always easy when she did need help and that without others to look after her she probably wouldn’t make it on her own. Through no fault of her own and Rahab didn’t even hate her for needing her when the others were gone.

He crawled across her bed, his finned wings close to his spine, crests pulled back in worry. “Layali?” he asked her quietly. “Are you okay?

She was curled up under several blankets and around a cool talisman made by Kabir to be life more comfortable. He could barely see her black hair or her Wind green eyes. “I’m fine,” she whispered and he didn’t believe her.

“You don’t sound fine,” he said and crawled into the little gap in her blankets. He curled his long tail around her neck comfortingly and settled against her shoulder like he used to when they were children and alone and afraid. “You can tell me,” he whispered.

“I’m getting worse,” she whispered back and pressed her face against his scaled hide. “I can feel a vision coming.”

His crest flared in alarm. “Do you want me to go get Lianna” he asked her. She shook her head. “Why not?”

“I don’t want to be alone,” she sniffled.

“Oh… well you know I’ll always stay here,” he promised and curled himself more around her neck and into her hair, his fin-like wings acting like fingers and pulling her hair away from her face.

“I know. Lianna will come back. I just don’t want to be alone when I go into the Sight.” Rahab hated how terrified she sounded. He wished she didn’t have to be afraid of what she could do. But as long as her ability to See hurt her there was nothing anyone could do.

“When will the Master send word?”

“I don’t know. Soon. I hope,” she held his fragile Fae body against her own and pressed against his side. “I really hope it is soon.”

“I’ll stay until he comes, whenever that is.”

“I know. Thank you,” she whispered. He frowned and wished he could do more.


	10. Chapter 10

Bent over her workbench Nadalin didn’t even hear someone coming up to her until there was a hesitant, “Excuse me?” Her head jerked up. There was an adolescent Guardian standing on the other side of the workbench with a bundle of perfectly shaped dowels, rods, and other small pieces of wood she’d gotten from Fjord. He didn’t display the most interesting genes or the best colors but she couldn’t help but stare at him in shock. He stared back.

“Tyberion?” She didn’t know why she said that. She didn’t know what that word meant or why she said it to this Guardian.

“Yeah! Th-that’s me,” he stammered. He seemed just as shocked himself. “I guess… yeah… that sounds right. Ah— Fjord told me to bring you this,” he lifted the bundle of sticks and worked wood. “Do you… still need it?”

She stood up from her stool at her workbench and looked him over a bit more. Plain yellow hide and blue patterned wings like puffy clouds with a strip of dark red running down his side and accenting his red eyes. She’d never seen a dragon like this in the Hall before. She’d never met a dragon like this before. Never. Yet she saw him and the first words out of her mouth was a name. His name. She didn’t even know who he was. He kept staring at her too.  It rudely. But just staring. Enrapt.

“I do,” she said softly. “Is your name really Tyberion?”

“Yes,” he was almost too quick to assure her. “Yeap that’s me,” she could tell it both was and wasn’t a lie but wasn’t sure what to make of that in the first place.

“Oh, okay…” another dragon she did and didn’t know that confused her. “Do you know Sigurrós?” she asked him.

“Who?”

“Nevermind,” she brushed it off. “Thank you for bringing those materials. I needed them for my next project,” best to just ignore it. Act like nothing was different. She was just experiencing deja vu and it wasn’t worth getting worked up over. It never was.

“No problem! Ah, what are you making?”

“A kite,” she said as he put the bundle of wood up on the bench. “I use hardwood for the cross frame to give it structure and bamboo for the ribbing because it bends easier and gives it nice curves.”

“Wow. That’s so cool. Could I… stay and watch maybe?” he asked shyly. “ive never seen anyone make a kite before. Or make anything really.”

She knew it might be boring for others to watch but she wanted an excuse for him to stay just as badly as he was looking for an excuse too. “Sure,” she said with a smile. “It might be a bit hard to do so in that form. You’re so big.”

“Oh…yeah. My mother isn’t a fan of the humi form,” he said akwardly. “I’ll be careful,” he promised.

“Okay. Well, why don’t you come over onto this side of the table so I can show you what I’m doing,” she beamed at him. He pulled his lips away from his teeth in a dragon’s smile before carefully moving around to the other side. He sat down next to her and looked down at her earnestly, waiting for her to start explaining what she was doing. She couldn’t help but feel like she’d been here before. She couldn’t remember why or when or what had made her do this but it felt familiar. It felt comfortable to have Tyberion at her elbow watching over her.


	11. Chapter 11

Johanna was looking over her paperwork. It was about money. Always about money. It cost a lot of money to run a clan like the Hall. Craft materials were in abundance but the machines to refine them into things was not. She was frowning at the growing list of expenses against the dwindling amount of good and gems in their vault. With a heavy sigh she leaned on her desk and rubbed her forehead. She’d make sure they had enough but she was getting in in her years. She couldn’t always go out as much as she liked anymore.

There was a polite knock on the door. “Yes?” she organized her papers a bit more, piling them into a neat stack so they weren’t strewn all across the table.

Gemini opened the door. “Ma’am, some outsider is here to speak with you.”

“About what?” she didn’t want to deal with this. She had enough to do.

“Something about a letter he received from you. He said you invited him,” Gemini shrugged.

That piqued her interest, “Send him in,” she said and leaned back in her chair a bit. He left and after a moment another figure came into her office. Her stern face softened. Nearly draconic in looks with brown skin, the faded skin markings around his nose and eyes, shiny brown horns curling out of his black hair. “I wondered if you got my letter and didn’t just throw it away,” she said, looking him over. Like the last time she saw him he wore his mercenary styled armor, lived in and comfortable. She bet he smelled of sweat and leather.

“It crossed my mind,” Roach grunted, closing the door. She didn’t blame him. Elspeth’s letter had been… inappropriate to say the least. “And you got mine,” he swallowed awkwardly, his tail curled around the ankle of his boot. For a dragon who couldn’t die he certainly was shy. Johanna had that effect.

“A knife was not an appropriate gift.” He just blinked at her dumbly. “I’m saving it until she’s older.” She wasn’t sure he understood why she would keep a knife from their daughter and she suppressed a sigh. She did like them young, pretty, and dumb. She supposed she only had herself to blame. “Did you just come to see her?” she asked him, leaning on the arm of her chair.

His mouth opened and closed a few times but no sound came out. Her lips curled up on one side. “No,” he settled on. “If that’s alright?”

She grabbed her papers and put them into her to do box. They could wait. Once she’d organized her desk she got up and went over to him. He was more than a hand taller than her but he still looked nervous about saying the wrong thing. She looked up at him before reaching up and touching the side of his face, “Yes, that’s quite alright. I was rather lonesome.” She smiled nicely when the fins along his jaw flared. “But our daughter will be very excited to see you first,” she gave him a kind smile and gently took his hand. He took a reassuring breath and seemed more at ease now, his shoulders squaring up a bit.

“And I her,” he nodded a bit eagerly. She led him out of her office to go find Victoria.


	12. Chapter 12

Aten landed on the porch surrounding the Cypress Tree. Inside he could hear commotion. He was entering when Rahab crawled out of the door and up the side of the tree, deformed wings close to his back. Aten recoiled a little. Rahab always freaked him out. He poked his head into the hollowed out tree and saw his niblings chasing after Layali, playing a game of tag. He smiled a little seeing the little skydancers romp after her, still clumsy on their little legs.

When he entered the Tree Layali stopped and turned. Ado and Ilia ran right into her. “Got you, got you!” they cried in delight.

“Yes you did!” Layali beamed at them. “And look who it is,” she motioned to Aten and his heart swelled a bit.

“Aten, uncle Aten!” Ilia bounded over to him. He took a knee to hug her. Ado followed slower after his sister but with just as much enthusiasm. Healed Jewel or not Ado had corrdination problems. “Come to play?” Ilia chittered excitedly.

“Something like that,” he said nicely. “Have you been good for Ms. Layali?” he asked his niblings. He knew they could get out of hand sometimes and Layali was a delicate girl. 

“Yes! We’ve been good,” Ilia promised. “Lianna is gone so we can play tag.”

“Are you being good for Ms. Lianna too?”

“Yes, uncle,” Ado said in a quiet voice.

“Good,” he hugged them both. “I brought you something,” he pulled back and reached into his vest pocket. They bounced excitedly waiting for it. He pulled out a pair of toy unicorns, alike in every way, made of wood. He knew how twins were, he was one, if one had something the other wanted it. “Have you been listening to your magic use lessons, hmm?” he asked them. By the guilty looks on their faces he knew they hadn’t. “Well this will insentivise you. Watch,” he pulled them close and using some obvious magic so they’d understand he put his magic into them. The wooden figures came to life. They shook out their manes and pawed at the ground. Aten set them on the ground and they walked on their own. 

“WOW!” Ilia cried.

The unicorns moved for a bit on their own before becoming inert wood once more. “Do it again, uncle, do it again,” Ado said, pushing on his arm.

Aten smiled slightly, “Alright, but you need to learn to do it yourself. You both have a lot of magic potential. You can play with the toy or make it play with you.”

“Ooooh, that’s so nice!” Ilia had decided which unicorn was hers and picked it up. “Are you going to play with us still?”

“For a little bit,” he said. “I’m going to see your mother in a bit,” he swallowed thickly and felt his palms start to sweat.

“Really?! Can’t we come? Can’t we go see her?!” they asked, toys forgotten and we’re now bouncing up and down excitedly at even the mention of Astra. He always talked about her and they just wanted to know her. They didn’t know why she couldn’t come see them but they knew she wanted nothing more than to be with them.

“I’m afraid not,” he said. “Soon,” he promised, like he always promised them. Their excitement faded, replaced by being upset about being told, again, that they couldn’t see their mother yet.

“You say that every time,” Ilia said.

“I mean it,” Aten said. “Soon, she’s so excited to see you soon. She just has to do this one thing and then she is coming to get you.”

“Promise?” Ado asked.

“I do.”

“And our daddy too?” Ilia asked.

Aten felt a hand curl around his heart and squeeze. He swallowed. “I think we can arrange that,” he said. “But for now let’s play with your unicorns, hmm?” They nodded enthusiastically when he made them move around some more. He looked over their heads at where Layali was watching them and gave her a strained smile when she lifted her brows at him. He looked away when she went back up to her room, leaving him to spend as much time time with his niblings, alone, as he might never ever get again.


	13. Chapter 13

Astra looked at the glass bottle. It was almost empty, just a bit slouched around in the bottom. Colorless and tasteless it was the perfect poison. Sobek had done a good job. She uncorked it and poured the rest into the mead Azazel drank every night with dinner. 

Killing wandered over to her, tugging on her shirt. She leaned down, “Yes?” she asked nicely.

“I’m hungry,” she said, pouting a bit.

“Well you’re in luck,” she said and gently tapped her on the nose, “because I just finished dinner.”

Killing’s eyes lit up. “Yay!”

“Be a good girl and go sit at the table,” she said and gently shooed Killing away. She ran off to the huge stone slab of a table and climbed stop a chair. Astra rang the bell, signaling it was time for dinner. If Savathûn or Azazel would could was another thing entirely but she only cooked for them because if she didn’t Savathûn complained and her mistress was so annoying when she complained. She never bothered to make things they preferred either since they’d eat anything. So Astra made what she liked.

Astra took a seat with Killing and gave her her plate. It was full of hot vegetables she’d cut up into little easy to eat portions for her little mouth and charred beetles double stuffed with grains and berries, the way she liked it. Astra ate half paying attention to what Killing was doing so she didn’t choke eating her dinner and half reading a spell book she had open and suspended mid air in front of her. As she ate she’d swipe her hand in the air to make the page turn.

Midway through the meal Savathûn came into the eating hall. “Insects again,” she said disdainfully.

“Make your own if you don’t like it,” Astra said casually.

“Watch your tone, girl,” Savathûn growled. Astra chose to say nothing. Savathûn ate some of the beetles but didn’t make herself a plate, preferring to eat them straight from the skillet like an animal. Once she’d had some she left again.

“Astra,” Killing said, pulling her attention from her book.

“Yes, sweetheart?” she asked her.

“I’m done.”

“You know where to put your dirty dishes,” Astra said. Killing just pointed and shied away from the door. Astra looked over her shoulder.

Azazel looked like shit. His hair was thinned and falling out, his skin was tight across his bones and his features were sunken. Poison effects. He staggered into the dinning hall, looked at them both and then went and got dinner. As she expected he grabbed his goblet of mead and made it to sit down without falling.

“You look like shit, finally you look as good on the outside as you are on the inside,” Astra sneered at him.

“Don’t,” he growled.

“Hmpf,” she got up, collected the plates, her sister, and her book and left him to eat alone. She watched him drink the entire cup of poisoned mead in a few big gulps. She smiled to herself before having Killing help her clean up the dishes from making dinner for them and the ungrateful warlocks they lived with.


	14. Chapter 14

They should have been asleep by now. Ms. Lianna had tucked them in and said goodnight. But not Ms. Layali. Lianna said Layali wasn’t feeling well and couldn’t get out of bed to say goodnight and no they couldn’t come see her and say goodnight themselves. So they just had to go without. 

That had been hours ago and Ado couldn’t find a comfortable spot next to his sister in their nest. He kept changing the position of his wings or rolling his head around.

“Stop already,” Ilia complained and pushed at him.

“I can’t sleep,” he complained.

“I can tell that!”

“Can you?”

“… No, not really.”

“Uncle seemed sad today.”

“He’s always sad.”

“Not always!” Ado protested. “He’s happy sometimes.” But he had to admit, uncle Aten always did seem on the brink of sadness. He hid it well but they could feel it. 

Ilia rolled around and got onto her back, Ado climbed onto her a bit. “Do you believe him?” she asked him.

“Believe what?”

“That we’re going to see our mommy soon?” Ado squeezed his eyes shut. “I don’t. He always says that.”

“I want to,” Ado said.

“Yeah,” but he could feel her unhappiness with his gem. It refracted around in his skull until it felt almost like his own sadness.

“What do you think our mommy looks like?” Ilia asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Do you think she looks like us, or like uncle?”

“Both?” Ado said.

“Do you think she’s nice?”

“Yes,” Ado nodded and snuggled next to his sister. She was bigger than him and warm and soft.

Ilia yanked her wing out from under him. “When do you think we’ll see her? And our daddy?”

“Uncle said soon,” Ado said. He felt like they weren’t even having a real conversation. Ilia just needed someone to talk at. She knew all these answers. He was just saying what she knew, a physical voice to her mental knowledge. He kneaded his foreclaw against her warm stomach a bit. “I trust him.”

“I want my mommy,” Ilia said, not for the first time.

“She’ll be here soon,” Ado insisted.

“I know. I want her here now,” she whined.

“Uncle said soon. It’ll be soon,” he said, mostly to keep himself in good spirits too. But he had the same fear Ilia had. What if their mommy didn’t want them and Aten just said that to make them feel better? What if they didn’t have a mommy? 

“I hope so,” Ilia said softly and curled against him. “Go to sleep, Ado, you made me sad.”

“Sorry,” he creaked and laid back down with a friend. Ilia eventually fell asleep but it took longer to join her in slumber.


	15. Chapter 15

A single strand of hair fell in front of Azazel’s face. He irritably pushed it aside and continued his walk through the Warren. Figures flashed at the corner of his eye but he ignored them. If was dangerous to look, even for Azazel. He twirled his mustache with his fingers as he walked, thinking and knowing what he was going to do.

The library at the center of the Warren’s livable space was a seldom used place by Savathûn and Oryx. Only their protege’s used it. It was less of a library and more of a study with shelves stuffed to overflowing with books Oryx and Savathûn had bought, found, and stolen. Less of the first and more of the latter two. It held the extend of their knowledge and it was not insignificant.

He opened the door and like he expected to find her there was Astra pouring over two spell books and furiously writing notes. She didn’t notice him enter, so engrossed she was with what she was reading. Her blonde hair was pulled over one shoulder so he could see the soft expanse of her pale neck.

Slowly he walked up behind her. He twirled one end of his mustache before reaching down with both hands and holding her face. She jerked up and tried to wrench away but he held her there. “Hello, my beautiful girl,” he cooed. She lifted her shoulders defensively. He tutted. “No need for that, darling.”

“I am not your darling,” she hissed through clenched teeth.

He leaned down behind her, still holding her face in one hand, the other sliding down her neck and chest. “You could be.”

“Maybe you should have thought of that before raping me,” she lurched out of her chair and climbed onto the table. He grabbed at her, finding her ankle. She was so full of fight. Yet so weak. So powerless. She gave a shriek when he yanked her back and shoved her down onto the table, cheek against the tabletop.

“I have far more I could offer you, Astra,” he said, leaning down and over her. “Just don’t do that thing that makes you repulsive.”

“I would literally rather fuck Abbadon than you,” she snarled and tried to smack her wing into him. He pushed it down with his own.  It did mess up his hair, though. He carefully brushed his hair back into place.

“Don’t say things you don’t mean, girl, or they might come true,” he said, still using his own wings and tail to keep her pinned. 

“Get off me!” she shrieked.

He leaned over her again and grabbed her by the cheeks. “You’re making this worse for yourself, Astra, I promise you that. I am really quite nice once you get to know me.”

“Eat shit, Azazel!”

He looked over his shoulder when the library door slammed open. Aten stood in the doorway, breathing heavy like he’d run. “Ah,” Azazel said casually. He wasn’t quite worried about Aten’s abilities but he did respect that his bicep was bigger than Azazel’s head.

“Get off my sister,” Aten growled and stormed forward, sunset wings fanning out aggressively.

Azazel took a step back, hands raised slightly, from where he was pressed up against Astra’s backside. She scrambled away from him to physically hide behind Aten’s greater bulk. “I didn’t do anything, oh White Knight,” he mocked Aten.

“Yeah, but you were gonna. Stay away from my sister you disgusting fuck.”

“Hmphf, seems Oryx never taught you manners. I’ll have to let him know,” he said nicely and walked past the twins. Aten growled in his direction but he wasn’t afraid of the whelp. Azazel always got what he wanted in the end. It was just a matter of time.


	16. Chapter 16

Coming home was… difficult. Sigurrós looked at the cracked glass wall. It made his shoulder tingle. He’d been so stupid coming out here, drawn out by the shadows and noises. He touched the cracked window where the huge thing had nearly smashed his home. His blood was gone from it. Someone had come and cleaned it up.

Carefully Sigurrós opened the glass front door. His plants had been watered while he was… recovering. He’d hardly call it a recovery. He’d never recover. He would now always be without.

Slowly he walked around his little greenhouse, checking on his plants and flowers. They had been taken perfect care of. Maybe Aya had come and watered them, or one of the druids. Probably one of the druids for how full they were, how well the flowers bloomed.

Normally seeing his flowers in such full bloom would have brought him joy. Made him smile. Now they did not. He didn’t see really a reason to smile anymore. He plucked a hibiscus and held it in his one good hand. Pink ones like this had been La-La’s favorite. He frowned and crushed the blossom in his hand, dropping it on the ground as he walked past the bush.

He reached out to run the fingers of his left hand across some feathering pussywillows. His mind went through the motion but there was no body. His shoulder raised as if still attached to an arm still. He looked at where his hand should be. There was nothing. All there was was empty air. Sigurrós stared the empty space, not accepting what he was seeing, his dull blue-gray eyes refusing, not for the first time, to accept reality as it was.

“Should have just stayed with him,” he whispered. “You really can’t take care of yourself, Rosy,” he sniffled.

“You’re just a stupid, weak, pathetic, little BOY!” the end came out as a shout and a blast out of light that sparked off his teeth and burned the plants in his path into glass. The beam hit the glass of the greenhouse and split into several, frying even more foliage. “Useless. Useless. Couldn’t even do the one thing they told you not to do!” he yelled at himself. “Stay inside on a fog day, Sigurrós, that was all you had to do. Too stupid to even do that. Why did you ever think you could do this?” he looked at his plants, some charred to a crisp, overs healthy, green, shiny with moisture. 

“I can’t do anything,” he whispered and went to his room. There rows of vials and bottles of memories were lined up neatly on shelves. He picked one up. Rhodon had made this one. He knew because it smelled like the first time Sigurrós had caught him kissing someone else. He let it drop to the floor where it smashed into shards, the liquid scattering across the floor. He picked up another one, this shaped like a heart. Rhodon had made it too, to apologise. He dropped that one too. He knocked the rest of the shelf off, each perfume adding to the feeling of inadiquecy until it was a miasma.

He came to the few he’d made. The ones he thought were special. But they were only special because Rhodon said they were. He knocked them over one by one. “You were right, asshole,” Sigurrós said softly. “I really can’t do anything right, or make it on my own. Are you happy?” he demanded of the Wildclaw who wasn’t even there. “And uhg now I even look like him,” he looked at his missing arm. Rhodon had been missing an arm, leg, and a hand. He’d barely been a dragon anymore. His head hadn’t even been properly attached other than by golemancy. 

Sigurrós looked around what had been his store room and bedroom sadly. He put his hand over his face, tears coming. “I want to go home,” he sobbed. But home was gone. It was Silent. There was no home to go back to. “I want to go home,” he sniffled miserably and stood there until the smell of all those memories forced him out.


End file.
